


The Renegade

by Lusciousinpain



Series: Hot Spies In Love [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Betrayal, Blow Jobs, Confessions, FBI, Fluff and Angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Spies, Torture, cumming untouched, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 17:05:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15711561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lusciousinpain/pseuds/Lusciousinpain
Summary: Sam glares, grits and growls, he's worried about Dean, but at the same time more affected by the thought of Gabriel putting himself in danger, than he cares to admit.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam glares, grits and growls, he's worried about Dean, but at the same time more affected by the thought of Gabriel putting himself in danger, than he cares to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this installment. It's longer than the last few, but there were a lot of plotty bits to wade through before we could get to the porn. 
> 
> Would love to know your thoughts.

It's 8am:

"Sonofabitch." Dean struggles in his binds, glares at the enemy, and for the first time since he's been kidnapped, feels well and truly fucked. 

"Humpht, you're not happy to see me?" Meg asks, marching right up to Dean and slapping him hard across the face. "That's for chipping my tooth, you prick!"

Dean grunts from the impact, but quickly recovers. "I'm sorry it wasn't your neck." He spits back, fingers itching to reach out and wrap around Meg's throat. He's never liked the woman, but double crossing him like this? Figures. 

Meg laughs, "You know, it's really hard to hate you, Dean. But not impossible." She walks to a near wall and leans against it, legs crossed at the ankle. "And too bad for you, because this time, you pissed off the wrong bad guys." 

"Aren't they all bad?" Dean counters, lips a thin angry line. "Huh? So why the downgrade?" 

Rowena, Ruby, and Meg laugh. "Better offer." Meg shrugs, then counts off, "Better people. Better perks. Better job security. More respect. I can go on-"

"N'ah." Dean says, licking a trickle of blood from his lower lip, "I don't care." 

"Suit yourself. But just so you know, if your story doesn't match mine-" 

"That's enough." Rowena interrupts, cutting Meg off mid-threat. "Dean," she resumes, eyes locked on her prisoner, "I have long suspected that we have a mole in our midst. A double agent, if you will. And now, thanks to Meg, not only are my suspicions confirmed, but I also know the name of the saboteur that has betrayed my son's trust." 

Dean knows she means Castiel, and he shoots Meg a warning glare, but Meg just smiles in return, and Dean grows angrier.

"Would you like to know his name?" Rowena teases, "Oh wait, you already do."

"I already toldya, I don't know what the hell you're talking about." But Dean does, and despite the fact that Castiel has been playing Russian roulette with his life for years, Dean still chooses to protect him. 

"I told you he wouldn't talk. Let's go." Meg taps her foot impatiently on the cement floor, makes a 'wrap-it-up' gesture with her hand. "We don't need him." 

"I suppose not." Rowena sighs. “Too bad." 

Meg rolls her eyes, exhales, "Finally." And heads for the door, calling over her shoulder, "And I wouldn't count on Sammy coming to the rescue, this time, Dean-o. He'll be all tied up."

"That's right." Rowena chimes in, joining Meg by the door. "Quite literally, as a matter fact." 

"You leave Sam out of this!" 

"But Dean, you left us no choice." 

"He doesn't know anything about a spy-"

"Oh we don't need him for _that_." Rowena replies, waving him off with her hand. "I already know all about our duplicitous little soldier. But that being said, I had hoped you would have corroborated Meg's information. Not for me, but for my Fergus. That stubborn little nit refuses to believe or do anything about my suspicions until all of the allegations have been proven 'beyond a shadow of a doubt'." She air-quotes, sneers, "Whereas I prefer to follow my...instincts."

"Yeah, that's all real friggin fascinating." Dean snarks, not giving a damn about what her son wants, much less about her goddamn instincts. "But you hurt Sam...and I hurt you."

"Hmpht, maybe I should be the one to pay Sammy a visit." Ruby volunteers, grinning wide when Dean growls at her taunt. "Is he as feisty as you are, Dean?"

"Ruby," Rowena chastises, pausing to check her wristwatch; it's getting late, and she has a very important appointment to keep. "stop teasing the boy. And Dean," she adds, pleasantries back in place, "don't worry about your brother. All I need from him is information on two very special prisoners. And as long as he's cooperative, I promise his death will be neat and quick." She snaps her fingers. "Maybe even painless."

"If anything happens to Sam," Dean snarls, teeth clenched, neck corded from the strain to pull free, "and I mean anything, I swear I'll kill all of you. And I won't need the FBI or Ca-"

"Yo!" Meg shouts, startling everyone, but more importantly, silencing Dean. "Enough with the chit-chat." She taps at her own wristwatch, complains, " We still have a shit ton to do before we can go grab the other one."

Rowena frowns at the interruption; she doesn't like it, and plans on dealing with Meg's rudeness after all of her plans are in place. But for now, she smiles and is more than happy to use Meg's resentment towards the Milton family, to her advantage.

"Remember what I told you about being unnecessarily cruel." Rowena calls to Ruby. "Although," she pauses, reconsiders, "since our guest has been unnecessarily stubborn, you have my permission to use that blade you're so fond of." She grins, "Carve him up into as many fillets as you like." 

Ruby beams, pulls out her dagger, then almost drops it when there's a loud thump against the door.

...

Castiel grabs Sam to keep him from darting forward. 

"What the hell is Meg doing here?" Sam hisses, wondering if he should be relieved or scared that she's suddenly there. He looks over his shoulder, and mutters a curse; one look at Castiel (the assassin's face, like a dark mask of fury) and his heart plummets. 

"Exactly what I knew she would do." Castiel answers. "Betray us all. But you need to be quiet." He warns, putting a finger against his lips to shush Sam. "Or she'll alert Rowena. And believe me Sam, that woman will kill Dean without hesitation." 

Sam freezes, holds his breath, he's desperate to storm in and rescue his brother from the witches' clutches, but nevertheless heeds Castiel's warning. But that doesn't mean he has to like it. "We should have gone in as soon as we saw them show up." He argues. "Get Dean out of there before they start hurting him-"

"Ruby will keep Dean safe." Gabriel assures him, hoping he sounds more convincing than he feels. "But Abbadon on the other hand," he pauses, takes a hold of Sam's other arm, "yeah, her...we should worry about."

Sam glares at Gabriel. "Who the hell is Abbadon?" 

"One of Rowena's top lieutenants."

It means nothing to Sam. "Gabe, I don't know who she is, and right now, I don't care. What we should do is rush them, catch them off guard-"

"We don't know how many guards they have stationed inside." Castiel reminds him, eyes focused on Meg and Abbadon's interaction. "Just because there's only one stationed at the door, and now Meg, doesn't mean there aren't a dozen soldiers surrounding your brother."

"Exactly," Sam whisper-hisses, "we don't know what we're up against. That's why we should grab those two and trade them for Dean-"

"No." Castiel says, curt and final, but not unkindly. He's sympathetic to Sam's plight, but unwilling to risk Dean's life because of his recklessness. "Besides," he adds, pointing towards the shed, "Meg has already entered, and Gabriel will take care of Abbadon." 

"What? How? I thought she was dangerous."

"She is, very much so, but she and my brother share a...history."

Sam exhales a frustrated breath, then takes an even deeper one, tries to calm himself. "Look, we're wasting time. How exactly is Gabe going 'to take care of her'?"

"By distracting her." 

Sam glares, grits and growls, he's worried about Dean, but at the same time more affected by the thought of Gabriel putting himself in danger, than he cares to admit. But he's on a job, and a professional, so he keeps his feelings in check, and focuses on the job at hand. 

He looks towards Gabriel, waits for his signal, but instead sees...

"Why is Gabe hugging her?" Sam's jaw drops, dumbfounded when the witch wraps her arms around Gabriel's neck and starts kissing him. "No-" 

Castiel grabs Sam and forces him back behind the hedge. "Let Gabriel do his job, Sam."

Sam tries to wrench free, but Castiel holds him fast. "She means nothing to him." Castiel promises, tone apologetic. "Gabriel only cares about you. He's here, risking his life in order to rescue Dean, because of you." He drops his hand, exhales, "He's doing all of this...for you."

And just like that, from one breath to the next, Sam's body uncoils and he deflates. "I'm...I don't know what got into-"

"You don't have to explain yourself to me." 

Sam nods, mutters a grateful, "Yeah." Then asks, "So she's a big deal?" 

"Yes, Abbadon is high in the Crowley family hierarchy. But she's more demon, than witch, really, and in many ways, a far worse foe than Alistair ever was." 

"She's worse than Alistair?" Sam throws his arms up, huffs, "Figures. That's the story of our life."

Castiel frowns, he knows all about Sam and Dean's painful past, and knows too that it's only going to get far worse, before it gets any better. 

But this time the Winchester brothers aren't alone. Castiel, and Gabriel as well, will stand beside them until this case is over, and their lives are finally their own. He opens his mouth to tell Sam just that, when muffled giggling draws their attention back to the shed. 

"Where the hell is she taking him?" 

"Don't worry about Gabriel. He knows what he's doing."

"Really?" Sam counters, too agitated to keep his voice down. "From where I'm standing, it looks like she's the one calling all the shots."

"It's what we want her to think." Castiel insists, laying his hand on Sam's arm to calm him. "It's the only way to remove her without alerting the other guards of our presence."

Sam shakes his head. "Castiel, look, I know you want me to wait, but my brother is in there, and now Gabe is gone. I say we move in-"

"Just a few more minutes." Castiel urges, but gets no further, his plea abruptly cut off when they hear a heavy thump against the shed's door and realize (far too late) that it's Abbadon slamming Gabriel's body, against it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been editing this installment for weeks, it's taking me a heck of a lot longer than I anticipated and as a result, had to post it before I was 100% satisfied with it.
> 
> That being said, i did try to catch all of the typos and grammatical errors, plot holes, dumb bits. But I'm sure I've missed a few.  
> Just hope it doesn't ruin the flow for you.  
> ^_<


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel stares grim faced and silent at the shed; Gabriel getting caught was not part of the plan. "Something must have gone wrong."

"Why did he let himself get caught?"

Castiel stares grim faced and silent at the shed; Gabriel getting caught was not part of the plan. "Something must have gone wrong." 

"Obviously," Sam frowns, "look at him. He's beat to shit...but...why the hell is he smiling?"

Castiel huffs, says, "Gabriel always did enjoy a good fight." 

But Sam is unimpressed. "He was supposed to find a way to get inside," he hisses, "make sure Dean is okay, let us know how many more-" but just when he's about to take matters into his own hands, they get their signal. 

This time when Sam pounces, Castiel doesn't stop him.

...

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?"

Abbadon hauls Gabriel to his feet, he's bruised, bleeding, but nevertheless, smiles. "S'up Rowena, Meg." He tries to take a look inside, to see if Dean is hurt or dead, but gets smacked across the back of the head for being nosey.

"I found him sneaking around-"

"I wasn't sneaking around." Gabriel protests, craning his neck to peek past Rowena, but Rowena blocks his view with her body, and closes the door. Gabriel shrugs, smiles, looks over his shoulder at Abbadon and adds, "I saw a pretty lady and I came by to say hi."

Abbadon smirks, grabs him by the hair and yanks his head back. She kisses him for a long second, leaving his lips red smeared and bruised. "Thanks." She replies, pulling hard on the short strands. "But I don't believe you for one second, lover boy." 

Gabriel shrugs, as if to say, _'Hey, it was worth a shot.'_ , then turns back to Rowena and asks, "So...you doing some maintenance work on my Ferris wheel? Only asking because...why else would you be here? I mean, it's not like you have someone tied up in there, right?"

"Gabriel, what the hell do you want?" Rowena snaps, short tempered and short on time.

"Me? I want lots of things. World peace. To be taller-"

"Answer her question!" Abbadon yells into his ear, jerking his head back while spinning his body around. 

"Abbadon, enough! That's no way to treat a business associate-"

"You mean," Gabriel emphasizes, head cocked at an awkward (painful) angle, "that's no way to treat you're _boss_." 

"Boss?" Rowena laughs, head thrown back in a full belly chuckle. "I'm sorry, but aren't my 'bosses' currently in prison?" 

Gabriel fish-mouths, speechless, because yeah, they are. "Well, I guess. If you want to be all technical about it-"

"So technically," Rowena stresses, laughing even harder, "I'm a free agent now. And you, my dear Gabriel, are at best, a coworker. But if you like, there are openings in my establishment." She looks over at Meg, the petite brunette's eyes locked on Gabriel's every move, "I'm sure Meg will put in a good word for you."

"Hey Meg." Gabriel throws Meg a wink but shakes his head as if disappointed, "never figured you for someone that would go slumming." He narrows his eyes, grins, "Though I always knew you couldn't be trusted." 

Meg steps right up to Gabriel and pokes him in the chest. "The feeling's mutual."

"Why are you here?" Rowena says again, not really worried about Gabriel, per se, but curious to know if he suspects she has an FBI agent tied up inside. 

"Why wouldn't I be here?" Gabriel counters, stalling, "it's my Carnival, after all."

Rowena doesn't have time for this. "Fine." She exhales, shooing him away from the door. "Since apparently nothing has brought you out here today..." Rowena motions for Meg to follow, "go about your own business. We have work to do." 

"Maybe I can help?" He offers, "Maybe I can help you get rid of that FBI agent you have tied up inside."

"How did you- 

"Abby told me."

"Abbadon!"

Abbadon smiles, runs the tip of a long lacquered nail against the grain of Gabriel's cheek. "It's not like I'm letting him leave here alive."

Rowena exhales loudly through her nose, annoyed, now she's really going to be late. "Fine, but don't get in Ruby's way." 

Abbadon replies with a sneer, and Rowena grins, glad that her two most dangerous weapons share a long history of animosity, which makes them too preoccupied with destroying each other, to bother usurping her authority. 

"And make sure no one ever finds his body." Rowena adds, heading to the car with a frowning Meg at her heels. "And if they do," she calls from the window, "make sure they can't identify him."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean twists and pulls at his restraints, desperate to break free. "Gabriel!" He shouts, doubling his efforts when the man stops struggling and lays limp beneath Abbadon's weight.

Abbadon opens the shed's door and pushes Gabriel inside. "Get in!" She says, startling Ruby. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ruby snaps, pulling her blade from her waistband.

"Hello to you too." Abbadon replies, angering Ruby further by casually sauntering in. She spots Dean and smiles, "Hey there handsome." Then starts laughing when Ruby steps in front of him.

"You're supposed to be guarding the entrance." Ruby tells her, hackles raised. "Get back to work." 

Abbadon meets Ruby's murderous glare with an unimpressed smirk. "If you must know," she says, hand reaching around Ruby to caress Dean's cheek, laughing when he shrinks away, "boss lady asked me to check up on you. Make sure you're getting the job done."

"Bullshit-" 

Abbadon tsks, "Such foul language from such a pretty mouth. I might have to wash it out with soap." 

Ruby growls, body shuddering with revulsion; she loathes this woman like no other, but she knows better than to lash out, because there's too much at stake. So she ignores the threat, and instead points to Gabriel. "What the hell is he doing here?" 

"Gabriel?" Abbadon drapes her arm over his shoulder and drops a kiss on his bruised cheek. "He stopped by to give me news about my darling Lucifer." It's a lie, a well aimed one, and Ruby falls for it. "Isn't that right, Gabe?" 

Gabriel shirks her off, grimaces, "Abby, you are seriously delusional." And tries to pull away. But her grip is like iron, so he stops struggling, catches Dean's eye, and throws him a wink. "Hey Dean-o, fancy meeting you here." His tone is friendly, casual, as if finding a federal agent tied-up in his maintenance shed was an everyday occurrence. "How's it hanging?" 

"Been better." Dean replies, just as casual, despite dreading what Gabriel Milton's presence could mean for him. Because if he's here, then Castiel must also be near by.

Unless...

Dean notes the zip-ties around Gabriel's wrists, his bloody face, and tries not to panic. "So, what brings you here?" He asks, desperate to know if Castiel has also been caught, or worse yet, hurt.

"Saw Abby outside, wanted to say hello. But why are you here?"

Dean gives his own inane reply and Abbadon listens with growing interest. She nods along, considers what they're _not_ saying to each other, and then her eyes light up with understanding. "You two already know each other." It's not a question and she laughs. "To bad your little reunion is about to end." 

...

Sam races to the back of the small building the second Gabriel disappears inside. But he does a shit job of securing the area, and he knows it. But his carelessness can't be helped; he's been on edge for hours now, like somehow they've missed a crucial clue and have already lost the battle. 

Nevertheless he checks here and there, the search is sloppy because he's anxious, and when he finds nothing, mutters, "Screw this." But then he hears the crunch of gravel underfoot, wonders for a split second if it's Castiel that's come looking for him, and whispers, "Castiel..." 

"Guess again." A gruff voice answers, and Sam curses, because he fucked up.

He knew he missed something. 

...

"Watch out!" Dean shouts, warning Gabriel, but Ruby knocks Gabriel over when she attacks Abbadon, and he falls. "Gabriel, get up!" 

"Hold your damn horses, Winchester!" Gabriel rolls upright then knee-walks towards Dean, but then something heavy lands on his back, and crushes him with its weight. 

...

Ruby's attack didn't necessarily surprise Abbadon, but her allegiance to a Milton, any Milton (especially after what that family did to her) definitely did. "I'll kill you for this." Abbadon vows, brandishing her own blade, looking over at Gabriel, and harrumphing, "You're a fool if you think they'll take you back."

But Ruby ignores the slur and instead braces for an attack, but it doesn't come. "No!" She shouts, making a grab for Abbadon when she leaps past Ruby's outstretched arms and lands on top of Gabriel's back, knocking the wind out of him and breaking his nose. 

"Groff!" Gabriel grits, mouth full of blood, bucking to knock Abbadon off.

But she holds fast and pins him with her knee to stop him from squirming. "Aww, did baby get a boo-boo?" She taunts, cruelly pushing his face down. "Don't worry," she says, raising the dagger high above her head, "Abby will make it all better." Then she brings the dagger down - bright metal glinting from the overhead bulb - but misses her target when the door bursts open, and a bullet shatters her wrist.

....

Castiel moves stealthily towards the shed, then dashes to the door when he's sure it's no longer being guarded. "Argh!" He grunts, falling to the ground when he's suddenly tackled from behind. 

"Who..." He gasps, trying to make sense of what just happened. But then his attacker straddles him, and Castiel knows exactly with whom he's dealing. "Walker." He growls, jaw clenched. 

"Wow," Gordon declares, pressing his free hand over his heart, "I'm honestly flattered you recognize me. And to think," he says, fanning his face, mocking Castiel, "that the infamous Castiel Milton knows who I am. I may just faint." 

Castiel glowers but makes no further comment, his main concern now is finding out if Sam is okay. He holds his breath and listens, then he hears it, a faint rustling nearby, followed by grunting, then the sound of a body hitting the ground. There's no doubt about it, they've all been caught. But how? 

_'You were careless.'_ his mind cruelly supplies, because it's true; he underestimated the enemy, and as a result, they're all in grave danger.

"Hey," Gordon hollers, slapping Castiel across the face, "am I boring you?" He reaches for his gun, sneers, "Well, maybe this will get your attention-" But the threat is cut short; in the blink of an eye Castiel reverses their positions and takes Gordon's gun. 

"Shhh..." Castiel presses the muzzle against Gordon's forehead and listens again for any sign of Sam. 

"Are you kidding me?" Gordon scoffs, laughing at Castiel. "When I'm done with you, I'm joining those two in there," he nods towards the shed, grins wide, "and I'm getting my pound of flesh. " 

"There are just two." Castiel repeats, eyes narrowing. "Thank you." He smiles, but Gordon misunderstands.

"You're thanking me? For what I'm about to do to Winchester? Man," Gordon exhales, brow furrowed, because he's confused. "we're carving him into thin tasty treats for Crowley's pack of savage hounds, you sick-o. You like the sound of that too?" 

A blow to Gordon's head is Castiel's reply.

...

Dean twists and pulls at his restraints, desperate to break free. "Gabriel!" He shouts, doubling his efforts when the man stops struggling and lays limp beneath Abbadon's weight. "No!" He cries; Milton or not, Gabriel is Castiel's brother, and one way or another, he must stop Abbadon. So he pleads with her, threatens and curses at her, when the door bursts open and a shot rings out. 

"Cas!" Dean shouts, locking eyes with the assassin for a split second before he turns and advances on Abbadon. 

"Castiel." Abbadon smiles, cradling her bleeding hand. "Came to say goodbye to your brother?" She's not surprised to see him there, it's the main reason she stationed Gordon outside. He failed, obviously, but she wont. "Or, maybe he's the one that should be saying goodbye to you?" She pulls a knife from her boot and flings it at Castiel, but Castiel moves lightening fast, grabs her by the shoulders and hauls her off his brother, throws her across the room. But Abbadon bounces right back, charges like a screeching banshee, only to be stopped short when Castiel ends her assault, with a fist to the jaw; the sound of knuckle breaking bone, like a gunshot in the small space.

"Jesus Christ..." Dean pants, chest heaving as if he'd been the one fighting, awestruck by Castiel. 

Castiel takes a moment to cut Gabriel free (his brother is groggy, loopy, but otherwise, lucid) then races to Dean's side. "Dean-" he says, dropping to his knees, but there's movement in the corner of his eye, and he pulls his gun.

"No!" Dean shouts. "She tried to help me."

Castiel doesn't argue, nods at Ruby, then immediately turns back to Dean. "Are you alright?" He asks, eyes scanning every visible inch for injuries.

But Dean is too overwhelmed to speak. 

"Dean?" The last rope falls away and Castiel reaches for him, but instead of taking Castiel's hand, Dean pushes him back and Castiel falls, mouth opening in a surprised 'O'.

"Just...don't." Dean warns and stands on his own, movements unsteady and stiff, he's in pain and grimaces. But Castiel dares not move, so he stays down while Dean assesses the scene. 

Dean notes every player, catalogs the carnage, then does a quick mental rundown to his next move: he has to get Ruby and Abbadon to headquarters, stat. 

But first things, first. 

He sets his eyes on Castiel again, grits, "Get over here." Then closes the distance between them and reels him in for a hard, lingering, kiss.

"What was that for?" Castiel gasps, breathless when they finally break apart, arms slung possessively around Dean's shoulders, like they belong there.

" _That,_ " Dean smiles, eyes soft, leaning in for one more kiss, "was for saving my ass. And this..." he adds, tone hardening, pulling his arm back and punching Castiel so hard he falls on his ass, "was for lying to me, you dick!"

Dean hears his brother gasp from behind and exhales in relief; Sam safe and sound, is one less thing to worry about. Dean nods to him and Sam nods back. "Nice of you to join us." He says, but Sam just smiles in return, thrilled that Dean is alive. 

"Had to make sure there weren't any more creepy-crawlers waiting out there." Sam explains, quickly adding when Dean frowns, "But I'm good, okay. The other guy," He chuckles, absently rubbing the back of his head, "not so much."

Dean wants to know more, but a full explanation will have to wait. So he points at Ruby instead, and orders, "Grab that one." Then he walks over to Abbadon and throws her over his shoulder. "Let's get out of here." He tells Sam, then heads straight for the exit, but when Sam doesn't immediately follow, Dean snaps, "Now, Sam." 

Sam is helping Gabriel to his feet, whispering something Dean can't make out, but at Dean's command, he shrugs an apology to Gabriel, then plucks Ruby from the cement floor. "Where are we taking them?" He asks Dean, hand clenched tightly around Gabriel's car keys.

Dean looks over at Gabriel (pointedly ignores Castiel) and figures there's no harm in answering. "To headquarters. These two are a gift for Bobby. They're our ticket to getting back on his good side."

Gabriel shakes his head, calls out, "Not so fast, buck-o! Ruby just risked her life to save yours." He helps Castiel to his feet, points to Abbadon, "But definitely take that one. She's a great catch." He whistles, then winces when it pulls at his split lip, "Heck, she probably knows more about Crowley's business than Crowley. But not Ruby. She's one of us."

"Is that right?" Dean sneers, not impressed. He catches Castiel's eye and holds it for a heartbeat. "Yeah, I bet she's a real angel. But compared to who? Huh? You?" He nods at Castiel, "Him?" Dean snorts, then goes for the door. "Know what, I'm gonna let Bobby be the judge of that." 

"Wow, talk about ungrateful-" 

"Ungrateful?" Dean rounds on Gabriel, but Abbadon's dead weight stops him from throwing any punches. "You think I'm being ungrateful because I'm not thanking your good buddy Ruby for drugging, then beating the shit out of me? Oh, and let's not forget the threats and terrifying walk down memory lane she and her boss treated me to." 

Gabriel doesn't cower under Dean's glare, but he does concede. "She was probably just following orders-"

"Yeah, well now I'm following mine."

"Dean," Castiel draws Dean's attention, inches towards him, "we didn't mean for any of this to happen. The second we found out they took you, we raced here. We never thought-"

"You never thought?" Dean's words are gruff, biting. "That's just it, Cas, you never think." But Dean's too tired to argue, not to mention furious and in pain. "Forget it." He exhales, because he also needs to get away from Castiel. "Let's go Sam." He says instead, and exits without so much as a backwards glance. 

"Gabe, I'll call you later-"

"It's okay, Sammy." Gabriel pats a wounded Castiel on the shoulder, throws Sam a pained smile, "Go take your prizes to your boss. We'll talk later."

Sam bites his lip, stands his ground for a few seconds longer, but then rushes after his brother. 

...

A minute later, the Milton brothers hear the screech of tiers peeling out of the parking lot. 

"See." Gabriel huffs, pacing back and forth despite the agony to his back. "I told you to tell that moron the truth." He goes to the door, but waits for Castiel before walking out. "It was never about getting his gratitude, you dope." He shakes his head, leans against Castiel for support. "It was about keeping him from killing you." He's exhausted, his body hurts like hell, and he's too damn angry to be sympathetic. "Hate to say it, but you really blew it this time. I seriously don't know how you're gonna fix this." 

Castiel doesn't reply, there's really nothing he can say in his defense. He knows he's blown it with Dean, and that the future he briefly envisioned with the agent is forever out of his reach. But he still has a job to do, and he intends on doing it. "Gordon Walker is a double agent." 

That stops Gabriel in his tracks. "I knew it." 

Castiel agrees, he's long suspected Walker of double-dealings. He leads his brother to where he left Gordon's unconscious body, but curses when it's not there. 

"Aw damn." Gabriel braces himself against the wall while Castiel looks around, but after a long minute, says, "Come on. He's long gone." 

"We need to contact Singer." Castiel says, eyes darting everywhere. 

"I know, but your boyfriend took my car, and I gotta sit down." Gabriel points to a small building on the other side of the parking lot, and starts hobbling towards it. "I have another car parked over there." 

Castiel follows his brother, silent, utterly miserable, and Gabriel chuckles, slapping Castiel on the back, "Don't worry, we'll get our guys back." 

But Castiel isn't so sure.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You're doing it again. Stop putting yourself down and thinking that he's too good for you." Gabriel wags his finger, says, "And maybe he is." Then he shrugs, but his eyes are sharp, shrewd, "But then again...maybe he's not."

It was torture, absolute torture: Dean kissing him, holding him, pressing his lips against Castiel's and claiming his mouth as if he owned him. 

And he does. 

But Castiel blew it, just like Gabriel said he did. And now, with zero chance of a reconciliation between them, let alone forgiveness, Castiel can kiss the romance he's always fantasized about with Dean, goodbye. 

The magnitude of this epic failure hits Castiel like a sledgehammer and he slumps lower in his seat. "I hope someday you can forgive me." He says to no one, eyes boring a hole through a garish painting in his sad little motel room. 

"Oh my God!" Gabriel cries out, smacking his brother across the back of the head. "Do you hear yourself?"

"I didn't say anything." Castiel replies, irritated that he's been caught off guard, again, but too damn depressed to care whether he actually said anything out loud or not.

"Bro," Gabriel sighs, drained from the day's ordeals, but even more exhausted by his brother's pathetic pining, "you didn't need to say anything." He walks to where Castiel sits, slumped and brooding, and grabs a chair. "You look like you're about to burst into tears."

Castiel averts his eyes, dabs at the corners, mimics, "You're the one that looks like he's about to burst into tears."

"Very mature." Gabriel snorts, smacking Castiel on the arm, "But seriously, grow a pair already. If you want him so bad, then go get him."

Castiel just sighs again, he knows Gabriel is right, that he shouldn't be falling apart over a man who clearly doesn't want anything to do with him (not that Castiel blames Dean) but that's nothing new. Dean is, and has always been, too good for Castiel-

"Stop it!" 

"What-"

"You're doing it again. Stop putting yourself down and thinking that he's too good for you." Gabriel wags his finger, says, "And maybe he is." Then he shrugs, but his eyes are sharp, shrewd, "But then again...maybe he's not."

That's preposterous. As far as Castiel is concerned, Dean is the best man he knows, loyal to a fault,  
righteous, and so singleminded in his convictions, that he would never accept someone as flawed as Castiel-

"I said quit it." Gabriel warns, exasperated. "Come on." He climbs to his feet and hauls his brother up with him. "Let's go."

"Where are we going?" Castiel asks, but doesn't resist.

"Somewhere you'll feel better."

"Gabriel..." Castiel is in no mood to do anything, or go anywhere. "Where are you taking me?"

"It's a surprise." 

Castiel doesn't have the energy to argue, and he's too tired to fight. "Fine." He exhales, because why not? It's not like he's got anything left to lose.

...

The 'surprise', turned out to be parking their car in front of the Winchester house.

"What are we doing here?" Castiel hisses, fidgeting in his seat. He doesn't want to be there, but at the same time, there's nowhere else he'd rather be.

"We're waiting for our guys to come home." Gabriel explains, reclining his own seat as far back as it will go. He mutters something about resting his eyes for a bit, but the day's been painfully long and awfully shitty, and soon enough, he's snoring.

Castiel wishes he could relax like his brother, slip into sweet, sweet, oblivion, and forget the past week ever happened. But for him, the opposite is true; being this close to Dean's home has made him hyper-aware, uber-alert, and renewed his hope. But he needs to push that hope away. What he did to Dean is unforgivable, he knows that, and if Dean never wants to see or hear from him again, Castiel won't fight it. He's made his bed, so to speak, he just wishes he had a warm body with which to lay in it.

...

The Impala's rumble is the first thing that alerts them to Sam and Dean's arrival. The second and third, are the sounds of angry cursing and slamming doors. 

"What the hell are you two doing here?" Dean snarls, glaring menacingly at Castiel from the passenger side door. "Forget it." He grits, turning towards the house and storming up the driveway. "It doesn't matter."

"Gabe!" Sam rushes to Gabriel's door and gives him a hand, wincing when the street light hits him; the fluorescent beam casts a ghastly glow on Gabriel's many cuts and bruises, and the sight hurts Sam more than he thought it would. "Come inside." He tells him, guiding Gabriel by the elbow. "You too." He calls over to Castiel. 

But Castiel is reluctant, nervous, ashamed. "No...I'll wait here. I don't want to intru-"

"Look..." Sam exhales, bone deep tired. After the day they've had, and the seven hours of interrogations afterwards, Sam could really use a hot meal, a warm bath, and a strong drink. Not necessarily in that order. "Dean is angry, not gonna lie. But...yeah," Sam wraps his arm around Gabriel's waist to support his weight, and smiles, "he'll be even more pissed at you if you don't at least try to explain." 

And with that, Sam steers Gabriel inside and leaves Castiel to make his own decision. But not without one last push. "And I promise," he hollers, "you won't be intruding."

...

They settle in the living room, Sam sits Gabriel on the couch, props cushions around him and tries to make him as comfortable as he can. "Why didn't you go to the hospital?" He asks, but it's rhetorical; neither he nor Dean would have gone to a hospital either. 

Gabriel shrugs, makes a small wounded sound, and Sam is on him immediately. "Hey, take it easy, okay." He leans over Gabriel, fluffs a pillow behind his head, but then Gabriel arches his neck, and Sam gets a lungful of his intoxicating cologne. He buries his nose there, inhales deeply, and Gabriel moans.

"M'glad you like it." Gabriel hums, and Sam grins, drops a kiss against the fragrant flesh, and Gabriel cranes his neck further. "Sammy..." He exhales, turning his face to steal a kiss. 

"Gabe, we shouldn't-" Sam says, leaning in further despite his doubts, carefully supporting his larger bulk over the smaller man so as not to crush him. 

"I know, Sam, I know." But Gabriel keeps kissing Sam, whispering between breaths how much he needs him, how good he makes him feel. 

"What the hell is going on in here?" Dean barges into the living room and startles them apart. He scans every corner (as if looking for something, or someone) and asks, "Well?"

"Dean," Sam hops up, rounds on his brother, looks him in the eye, and says, "Look, Castiel is really sorry. Okay. You need to talk things over with him. Or at least hear him out. You know that...right?"

Dean scans the room once more, snorts, "Right. But if he's so damn sorry, then why didn't he come in. Probably because he couldn't be bothered-" 

"Oh for the love of..." Gabriel points to the kitchen, says, "Quit you're griping, you big baby. Cassie's in the kitchen. Waiting. For you."

...

Dean never realized how far the kitchen was from the living room, before. Although, its abnormally long distance could have something to do with the man that's currently waiting for him in there. And even though minutes earlier he was desperate to learn Castiel's reasons for his betrayal, Dean's no longer so eager. 

"Fuck this." He grumbles and turns for the staircase instead. Right now he's too tired and frustrated for anything more complicated than a hot shower. And Castiel, is the very definition of 'complicated'. 

…

Dean exits the bathroom (naked, body hot, skin damp) feeling, not necessarily better, but at least clean and slightly less tense - like he's almost human again. Until he looks up.

"What the hell are you doing in my room?" He yelps, quickly covering his dick with his towel.

"Ah-" Castiel stares wide eyed, heart thrumming frantically in his chest; Dean, fresh out of the shower, flushed and gloriously naked, should be illegal. "Dean..." He inhales, exhales, dangerously close to swooning, "I'm...my apologies." He reaches for the door knob and twists it, rattling it noisily, but it doesn't turn. "Sam and Gabriel locked me in here."

Dean wraps the towel around his waist, walks to the door, and Castiel wisely steps out of his way. "Sonofobitch." He swears, aggressively turning the knob, but it refuses to turn. He throws Castiel a glare, a _'don't you dare come near me.'_ warning, then starts shouting, banging on the door. "Sam! Open the damn door!"

He hears muffled snickering coming from Sam's room, then a door closing. "Sam! I swear, I will make you sorry if you don't let me out!"

Nothing

"God damn it!" Dean bangs his fist one last time, drops his head against the door, rests it there for a beat, two beats, because he's not ready for Castiel right now (maybe never) but then steels himself (he's done being a coward) takes a deep breath, wills his galloping heart to calm, then turns towards his dresser, throws his towel on the bed (fuck modesty), and rummages for clothes. 

...

"Finally." Gabriel exhales, nestling comfortably in Sam's bed, happy with the day's results, despite how shitty the morning started. 

"Tell me about it.” Sam replies, pulling his shirt over his head, then rolling his eyes when Gabriel wolf-whistles. 

"Jesus," Gabriel exclaims, eyes large and ogling, "Sam," he whistles again, hand disappearing under his sheet, " _you_ are smoking hot!" 

Sam waves him off, but nevertheless blushes. "Anyway," he stresses, back on topic, "like I was about to say, Dean's been wound up so tightly lately - I mean tighter than usual - since meeting your brother, that it's definitely a relief they're finally talking.” 

"Yeah," Gabriel laughs, "I'm sure that's what they're doing, 'talking'."

Sam snorts, "Yeah, but eventually they'll have to air some things out. Seriously, I've never seen Dean so..." He shrugs, searches for the right word, "...focused, maybe even, enamored, over anyone. Ever." 

"Yup," Gabriel mumbles, eyes closing, drifting off, "this time anyway."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Gabriel's eyes pop open. "I mean...since tonight. Of course. This time, tonight. I mean...it's not like they've ever met before...last week. Right?"

Sam frowns, Gabriel's reaction is bizarre, well, more bizarre than usual, and briefly considers probing further. But then he takes another long look at his battered face, and figures it can wait till morning. "Right." He nods, content to let it go for now, and peels his pants off.

"Halle-freakin-lulla!" Gabriel pats the bed, and lifts the blanket. "Get that gorgeous body in here!"

Sam laughs, it’s a rarity for him, but he seems to do a lot of that whenever Gabriel is around. “Hey, you need your rest, okay.”

Gabriel pouts, cries, “Boo.” Then throws Sam a lascivious wink. “But I’m horny.” He whines, and Sam can’t resist.

“Look,” Sam starts, grabbing a bottle of lube from his nightstand and popping the cap open, “We can...you know...but promise you'll let me do all of the work.” 

Gabriel responds by throwing the covers off and flipping onto his stomach. He’s naked too, compact and lean, unblemished and firm, and Sam growls at the sight, a hungry rumble Gabriel swears he can feel from across the room. "Mmmm..." He moans, reaching behind himself and spreading his cheeks apart for Sam's inspection, "like what you see, big boy?"

"Yes...I do." Sam nods, because he does, very much. "Spread your legs." He tells Gabriel, voice deep and husky, so aroused he'd like nothing more than to plow right into Gabriel's tight heat, fuck him good and hard, and fill him with his cum. But Sam pauses, because he's still unsure. But then Gabriel wiggles his ass, hikes his hips, and Sam surges forward, pushing aside years of trepidation, fear of reprisals, and of what Dean's reaction might be, because none of it matters. "Fuck..." Sam exhales, a scorching breath along Gabriel's instep, a searing tongue licking at his thigh. "Going to make you feel good." He promises, and Gabriel stifles a sob, because he knows Sam means it.

And Sam does, because he finally knows (or at least accepts) that what he's wanted all along is to be with Gabriel. And not just because of the case, or because he helped rescue Dean, but because he seriously, desperately, and with all if his heart, wants to.

...

"Dean," Castiel says his name softly, cautiously, not sure how far Dean will let him get before cutting him off again, "I just want to tell you that I'm horribly sorry about…everything. About using you-"

Dean barks a laugh, steps away from the dresser, and still completely naked, charges right up to Castiel. "That make you feel better?" He sneers, eyes hard, body tightly coiled and ready to fight, but it's no easy task - not with the heat coming off the assassin's body and the look of utter misery in his blue eyes. "Huh," Dean prods, poking Castiel in the chest, "finally admitting that you've been lying to me all this of time, make you feel good?"

Castiel bows his head, "No, it doesn't." Then boldly gazes back into Dean's eyes. "But it wasn't all a lie-"

Dean laughs again, humorless and bitter, "Is that so?" He counters, indignant, offended. "You mean to tell me, that what happened between us was...real?" He scoffs, backs Castiel against the wall, "Well, forgive me for saying this, Cas, but...I think you're full of shit." 

Dean plants his hands against the wall, bracketing Castiel in their cage. "You've been lying to me since day one." He rasps, throat gone dry. "Admit it." 

"Dean...please..."

"Come on man," the words a breathy plea against Castiel's cheek, brushed across his parted lips, "it's no big deal. I'm a big boy. It's not like you're gonna hurt my feelings by telling me the truth." Dean pulls back an inch, holds Castiel's gaze. "Just admit it. You were only with me because you wanted to catch Alistair. No matter what the cost. I mean, I get it." He lies, smiling, eyes glassy. "You wanted to catch him even if it meant getting my ass killed, 'cause it sure as shit wasn't because I matter to you.” Dean snorts, stresses, "Because I don't. Right? I don't..."

"Dean," Castiel whispers, lips so close their breaths mingle, daring to rest his hands on Dean's hips, " _you_ , are the only one that matters. The only one that has ever mattered. To me."

Dean bites back a whimper, dick so hard the tip brushes against Castiel's clothed erection. "You, you can't say shit like that to me." He hisses, breath catching, hips hitching. "It's...it's not...fair." 

"But it's true." Castiel swears, dragging his hands from Dean's waist to the delicious swell of his ass. "Please believe me, Dean. Please...forgive me."

 _'Fuck, no!'_

It's on the tip of Dean's tongue, because why should he forgive Castiel? He's been nothing but dishonest with Dean since day one. A lying, low-down, criminal, but also the one who managed to kill every monster that has ever haunted Dean's nightmares. 

"No..." Dean insists, because he needs to stand his ground, but his body betrays him, and instead of pulling away, he leans in closer, grabs Castiel by the back of the neck, and drops a kiss atop his chiseled jaw. "I..." The words get stuck in his throat, because it's not what he wants to say. "Ask me again." He says instead, words barely above a whisper, hands cupping Castiel's face.

"Forgive me." Castiel whispers back, lips parted, head angled in invitation, but he leaves it up to Dean to make the decisive move. 

And Dean smiles, because he's done wasting time. "I'll think about it." He says and crashes their lips together.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> But Castiel is too busy chasing after Dean's mouth and running his hands up and down Dean's bare back, to be of any help. But then the inevitable happens: blunt nails scrape over the multitude of scars Alistair left behind, and Castiel's heart screams.

Dean spins Castiel around and walks him towards the bed, an awkward backwards shuffle made all the more clumsy with grouping hands and punishing kisses. 

"Dean-" Castiel says, because it's all he can say, over and over, on an endless loop - Dean, Dean, Dean.

And Dean totally gets it. "Yeah..." He gasps, pressing in closer, because he feels the same way. "Me...too..." He says, low and heated, branding the loaded words against Castiel's throat, undoing his fly, then tugging impatiently at his shirt, muttering, "Fucking buttons-" when he's unable to work them open. 

But Castiel is too busy chasing after Dean's mouth and running his hands up and down Dean's bare back, to be of any help. But then the inevitable happens: blunt nails scrape over the multitude of scars Alistair left behind, and Castiel's heart screams.

Dean immediately notices the change (the dip in temperature) and asks, "Cas?" His tone easy, but he's scared to death on the inside. He takes a deep breath before he can meet Castiel's stony glare, then exhales and drops his eyes. He doesn't need an answer to find out what went wrong - he's been down this road before - and starts pulling away. 

"No-" Castiel blurts, body kick-starting up again, wrapping Dean in his arms and kissing him. "Please-" he gasps, licking his plea into Dean's mouth, "It's not you...you, you're perfect..." He swears, pushing past his own selfish rage, to tend to the tender heart in his care. "I'm sorry-" he says, apologizing for Alistair, but also for himself, further assuaging Dean's fears with words of praise, of worship, of kindness. 

But it's too much for Dean, and too soon; Castiel's baseless sentiments are more than he can handle. "Stop-" he grits, teeth clenched, jaw locked, grabbing Castiel's shirt and tearing it open - buttons popping off and swallowed up by the rug. "Take this off." He orders, body hard, but tone tender; he's already forgiven Castiel, and right now, he's more interested in getting him out of his clothes, than listening to any more of his apologies. 

Castiel nods, relieved, and gladly complies. When his shirt drops away, Dean reaches for a nipple, rolls the diamond hard nub between two fingers, and nuzzles Castiel's neck, murmuring sweetly against the warm skin, "You're beautiful." But he doesn't mean just physically. 

Castiel shakes his head, because Dean is wrong, and opens his mouth to tell him so. But then his knees hit the bed, and he falls back, cock springing free from the impact.

"Fuck-" Dean rasps. grabbing his dick to give it a tug, a stroke, milking pre-cum from the tip, and using it as lube. He's stupidly hard and already so embarrassingly close, that he has to give himself a hard squeeze, or risk jerking off all over Castiel's gorgeous face.

Not that it's a bad idea, but Dean wants more. 

So he closes his eyes and counts to three. One. Two. Three. Inhales. Exhales. Mind calming. Body relaxing. But it's no use, he's been hard since he first saw Castiel, and should be on his third orgasm by now. "Take your pants off." He says, and Castiel nods, because that's a great idea.

Castiel strips out of his jeans, scoots up the bed, and spreads his legs, grabs his cock and strokes it. "Come here." He tells Dean, because he needs to be inside of him, now. 

Dean obeys, but grabs his lube first, smears a good amount between his own crevice, then gets on all fours and kisses a trail up Castiel's body - from instep to inner thigh. He pauses at Castiel's groin, hovers open-mouthed over his cock, and Castiel whimpers, "Please-" hips chanting, toes curling, because this feels amazing.

"Please...what?" Dean teases, dipping lower to suckle and lick, reaching out to stroke Castiel's cock with a slow sensual slide of hand, a gentle thumb across the head, murmuring seductively, "You like that?" Then adding with a wicked grin, "Then you're gonna love this." And sucks Castiel down. 

Castiel arches, ready to combust. "Yes!" He cries out.

"Hm?" Dean hums, mouth full of cock, slurping and sucking, gagging when it hits the back of his throat, choking on the sweet-bitter taste of Castiel's pre-cum.

"I..." Castiel physically vibrates with need, "come...here-" he grits, because he's almost there.

"Mmm?" Dean insists, but he doesn't wait for an answer; he knows Castiel is seconds away from cumming, but he's having way too much fun, to let this end so soon. So he pulls off, cock slipping wet and stiff from his lips, then dives between Castiel's legs, and starts sucking on his balls. 

Castiel grunts, hands tangling in the sheets. "I said," he fires back, body on the precipice, "come here." Then he grabs Dean, sits him on his lap, and attacks his mouth, his neck, his chest, passionate, heady, kisses that steal the oxygen from Dean's lungs, and make his head spin. 

Dean throws his arms around Castiel's shoulders, braces his knees on either side of Castiel's hips, and returns his fervor with equal intensity. "M'ready." He pants, and Castiel growls, pushes two fingers inside Dean's hole, and Dean stops breathing all together.

"Shhh..." Castiel soothes, adding a third digit and corkscrewing them. "...breathe..." He urges, replacing his fingers with his cock, then pushing in, just the tip, but it's huge, blunt, and Dean's head falls back. 

Castiel holds still and gives Dean a moment to adjust. "Relax." He whispers, passing a gentle hand across Dean's sweat damped brow, along the tense line of his shoulders, letting out a heavy breath when he feels Dean relax, then losing he mind when Dean grinds down. 

He throws Dean onto his back, hooks his legs over his shoulders, and thrusts in, fully sheathing himself in Dean's tight heat for a long second, before pulling back out, then slamming back in, fucking Dean hard, fucking Dean fast, pace furious and frantic, because he's waited so long for this. 

And Dean cries out, pivots his hips, and there it is, another hit to his sweet-spot, another breath punched out. Then Castiel bites his calf, orders him to touch himself, and Dean grunts, "Yeah-" reaches for his dick and starts stroking it, fist working fast and wet from too much lube, a perfect combination of friction and heat, of successive hits to his prostrate, and then he shouting out a warning, and cumming so hard, it feels lit from within. 

But it's far from over. 

Dean drops his legs from Castiel's shoulders, first one then the other, then hisses when Castiel's cock slips out. Castiel protests, but then Dean gets on his elbows and knees, presents his ass (hole pink and wet, tight puffy pucker begging for Castiel's cock) and Castiel slams back in, drapes his body over Dean's, and reaching around to fondle his dick

"Jesus-" Dean gasps, body trembling, skin tacky with sweat and cum, pushing back and matching Castiel thrust for thrust, begging him to go faster, harder, because it feels amazing, this shared intimacy, this mutual passion, it's glorious and ruinous. And then he clenches around Castiel, and Castiel falters - balls drawing tight, a sweet, sweet, agony for a split second before climaxing - and Castiel spills, pulsing wave after wave, filling Dean while clinging desperately to his body, to this man that means more to him than he does to himself, clutching as if his life depended on it. 

Because for Castiel, it does. 

...

Bright sunlight streaming through the blinds wake Dean from the best sleep he's had in a very long time. _That_ and the pressing need to pee. "Mmm..." He sighs, body achy, but in the best of ways. "Cas?" He reaches for the warm body next to his, then bolts upright when all he feels is a cold pillow. 

He's alone. Of course he is. 

Dean drops his head in his hands and laughs - it's either that or cry, and right now, he's too drained for tears. But then the door swings open, slowly, quietly, and Castiel appears with two steaming cups of coffee; Dean thinks he might cry after all. 

"Good morning, Dean." Castiel hands Dean a mug, gives him a warm smile, then drops his eyes. He takes a sip, looks back up, then asks, "Is everything alright?" 

Dean answers with a smile of his own, because there's no way he's telling Castiel the truth. But if this shit between them is going to work (and dear god, Dean wants it to work) then he's going to have to start by being honest. "I..." But it's harder than he thought.

"Dean?"

"You...you weren't here. And," he laughs, feels like an idiot, "I guess I thought you left."

"You thought I left?" Castiel steps out of his pants (a worn pair of sweats he borrowed from Dean) and climbs back into bed, caresses Dean's cheek, swipes his thumb gingerly across his lips, then leans in and presses a soft kiss against them. "I'm never leaving your side again." His tone is fierce, final, and exactly what Dean wanted to hear. Needed to hear. 

But it's not realistic. 

"Cas," Dean chuckles, a happy sound that lights up his handsome face, "I appreciate the sentiment. But, ah, I've broken about a dozen laws by not arresting you _right now_." It's the truth, and they both know it. 

But instead of arguing with Dean, Castiel swallows, inhales, exhales, and confesses, "You haven't broken any laws." 

Dean's brows shoot up. "Are you kidding me? Cas," Dean gets on his knees, swings a leg over Castiel's lap, and takes his face in both hands. "I'm a federal agent, and you're number one on our most wanted list. That means it's my job to catch you." Dean sweetens the blow with a kiss, then hops off and goes to the bathroom. 

"Anyway," he says, falling back into bed a minute later, "I know you're, well, not exactly innocent, but definitely not as guilty as Bobby thinks you are." He wipes away the worried frown from Castiel's face with another kiss, it's a little deeper this time, hungrier, then gasps "Oh-" when Castiel's fingers wrap around his dick. Dean leans into the touch, pumps his hips, and exhales, "I...ah, I guess we can, ah...figure this out...later." Then braces for penetration; he's still loose and sloppy from the night's previous fucking, but nonetheless, knows it's going to sting like a bitch. But instead of sinking onto Castiel's cock, he gets knocked off. 

"Hey," Dean whines, "I was just getting started." 

Castiel's face is bright with color. He looks at Dean through dark lashes, mumbles something Dean can't make out, then rolls onto his side, and Dean's jaw drops.

"Oh-" Dean reaches between Castiel's legs and fingers his hole, it's coated in lube, tight, but takes his finger easily. "Baby," he says, voice husky, arousal spiking, "you want me to fuck you?"

"Yes." Castiel says, and Dean bites his lip, muffling a whimper. 

"Okay..." Dean nods, trying to keep a cool head; he wants to make this good for Castiel, the best experience he's ever had. Or at least to remember Dean as the best fuck he's ever had. "Gonna fuck you so good." He says, lubing his dick then aligning their bodies - chest to back, groin to ass. "Gonna make you cum just from my dick." He promises, and Castiel nods in reply, because that won't be a problem. 

Then Dean reaches between Castiel's bent knees, and preps him for a thorough fucking: gentle, patient, pulses, to further loosen Castiel, and Castiel gasps, murmurs Dean's name, but then Dean presses in, and his body locks up. He holds his breath for a beat, luxuriates in the pleasure, in the pain, then exhales and pushes back, body overloading with so much sensation, feeling so full and so owned by Dean, that he can't help but fall in love a little bit more with the agent. Not that Castiel would ever admit his feelings out loud. Not yet, anyway. Not until he's sure Dean is ready for such a declaration.

But it's hard to keep his feelings in check, especially when Dean is being so tender, so giving, whispering a mix of endearments and warnings in his ear, vowing that he's going to ruin Castiel for every body else. But Dean already has, and Castiel tries to tell him that, but he's an incoherent mess, putty in Dean's embrace, and seconds later( just like Dean promised) he cums untouched.

...

"Come on, I'm starving." 

They fucked, then napped, and fucked again for the better part of the day, but along with the rumble of empty stomachs, comes the sobering jolt of reality. 

"But let's get Sam, first." Dean says, pulling out a pair of sweats for himself and an extra t-shirt for Castiel, stopping short when Castiel puts it on; the assassin looks good in his clothes, too fucking distracting, as a matter of fact. "On second thought," Dean reconsiders, reaching for Castiel, "I'm not really _that_ hungry." But then his stomach delivers another angry rumble, and they both laugh. Dean blushes, but nevertheless, reels Castiel in for a thorough kiss. 

And it feels so good, so easy with Castiel, so comfortable, that Dean never wants to let him go. "Ah...let, let's get your brother...too." He stutters, voice soft, eyes full of longing, and with Castiel a warm and pliant weight in his arms, Dean couldn't be happier. But he also couldn't be more terrified. There's no denying his feelings for Castiel (they've been building at a steady clip since they first connected) and show no sign of waning. But this is uncharted territory for Dean, and it scares him.

"So, yeah..." Dean sighs, grudgingly releasing Castiel and hoping he doesn't notice the slight tremor in his hands "Let's talk to Gabriel too. If he's still here." He shrugs, "He did help rescue me. So I guess he can't be all bad."

"Gabriel is very insightful." Castiel supplies, too wrapped up in his own inner turmoil to notice Dean's awkward phrasing.

"That's good." Dean nods, feeling a little steadier. "I'm sure together we'll all be able to figure out how to deal with-" He waves his hand between them, "-us. You, me, everything."

Castiel agrees and gives Dean a small smile, but it's tentative, because he's nervous, and with good reason; when Dean finds out that Castiel has been lying to him all along about his true identity, he's liable to be furious. He might even want to break up, and Castiel doesn't think he could survive that. Oh, he'd _live_ \- Castiel doesn't think he'd literally die from a broken heart - but he would be broken. 

He just prays it won't come to that.

...

"Yo, rise and shine, man." Dean barges into Sam's room without knocking, gripes, "I can't believe you're still in bed." Then freezes, grimaces, "Jesus, it stinks like cum in here." 

"Dean!" Sam shoots upright, grabs his sheet and drapes it over his chest. "Get out." He shouts.

 

"Dude," Dean frowns, "can you _not_ do that with me in the room?" He makes a retching noise, points to the suspicious bobbing between his brother's bent knees, and snarks, "You know, all of that jerking off's gonna give you hairy palms-" 

"Now!" Sam warns, cutting Dean off with a long, breathy, groan. 

"Fine." Dean throws his hands up, barks back, "Just hurry the fuck up." But he still doesn't leave. "Hey," he says instead, inching closer, equally amused and horrified by the unusually large bulge on Sam's lap, "you got someone under there?" 

"Oh my God-" Sam cries out (but it's not directed at Dean) back arching, the sheet slips through his fingers, and puddles on his lap.

And that's when Dean sees him. "Gabriel!" He yelps, feet frozen for a tortuous second before his brain restarts, and mercifully orders him to flee the room.

...

"I can't believe you're with Gabriel Milton. Are you nuts?"

"Am I nuts? Why would that be nuts-"

"Because he's a psycho killer!" Dean yells, making a 'd'uh' face.

Sam's eyebrows disappear under his bangs. "Oh really?" He counters. "And what exactly is Castiel? Other than being number one on the FBI's most wanted list. How do you define-"

"Ah, fellas," Gabriel calls over from his spot by the coffee machine, pours four steaming cups, and asks, "cream? Sugar?"

Dean glowers at Gabriel, but doesn't reply. This isn't about him, anyway, it's about Castiel, about what he means to Dean. "What do you mean?" He asks Sam, meeting his brother's 'no-bullshit' smirk with a pissed-off frown. 

Sam harrumphs and shakes his head; Dean is so obviously whipped, Sam just wishes he'd admit it out loud. "I mean, why are you...no," Sam shakes his head again, because he knows Dean will try to wiggle his way around a truthful answer, if the question isn't completely frank, "let me rephrase that." He resumes, pinning Dean with his most _'don't try to bullshit me'_ expression, "Who is Castiel to you?"

"Ah..." Dean fish-mouths, caught off guard. Sure, he expected Sam to bring up something that's completely _none_ of his goddamn business. But this? 

"Well?" Sam presses, walking right up to his brother and staring him down.

Dean stares right back, not intimidated at all, throws Gabriel a glare for good measure, then turns to get Castiel's reaction. But the moment his eyes land on the assassin (sitting silent and serious at the kitchen table) the oxygen gets sucked from the room. "Aw, fuck it." He mutters, because there’s only one answer. "Cas is my boyfriend." 

Sam grins, Gabriel mutters, "Finally." And Castiel smiles, eyes bright with emotion. 

"Hey, it's not like we're getting married." Dean smirks, throwing Castiel a wink. "Not yet, anyway." 

"N'ah, that's just a technicality." Gabriel hands Dean a cup of coffee and smacks him good-naturedly on the shoulder. "Welcome to the family, Dean-o. You're part of the dream-team, now."

"Team?"

"Yeah, Sammy and me, and you and Cassie. It's like I told Bobby the other day-"

"You know Bobby?" 

Stunned by what they just heard, both Dean and Sam ask the question at the same time. They exchange several looks, brows furrowed in confusion, but it's Sam that finally asks, "Gabe," he starts, cornering Gabriel against the kitchen island, "exactly how well do you know Bobby?"

Gabriel looks at Sam then at Dean, turns to Castiel (finds zero help there) and gulps, "He's my boss? Too?"

"Did I hear you right?" Dean asks, voice soft, tone murderous, inching towards Castiel instead of waiting for an answer. "Is that the reason why I'm not breaking any laws, Cas? Hm? Because you're also...FBI?"

"Yes." Castiel replies, he doesn't even try to deny it.

"You're just full of surprises." Dean sneers, grabbing Castiel by the shirt front and hauling him to his feet. "I really don't know shit about you, do I? But you..." he snorts, lip curling back in a snarl, "...you know everything about me. Why?"

"Dean, calm down." Sam takes Dean by the arm, but Dean shakes him off, tightens his grip on Castiel. "Sam, I told you he was FBI!" 

"You knew-" Castiel asks, daring to touch Dean, to rest his hands on Dean's hips and curl his fingers around the fabric of his henley. 

Dean responds by shoving Castiel off, then taking several steps back to put as much distance between himself and the assassin/FBI agent/boyfriend/ or whateverthehell he is, without actually leaving the room. 

Castiel drops back into his chair, and Sam takes a seat beside him. "Dean..." He says, addressing his brother but looking at Castiel. Sam considers him for a long moment, then turns back to Dean. "I'm sorry I didn't believe you." 

Dean runs a hand roughly through his hair, across his face, to the back of his neck, and nods. "Right." He folds his arms across his chest, holds his brother's gaze for a moment then turns to Gabriel; he can't look at Castiel right now, he's too angry, too hurt, but that's okay, because it doesn't matter. Not right now, anyway. 

What matters now, is the job. But first he needs to learn everything Bobby has been keeping from him and Sam, and the reasons why. So he steps right up to Gabriel, slams his fist on the kitchen table, and with deadly calm, says, "Tell us everything you know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Just got this posted before it was deleted from my drafts. Hope it satisfies and delivered everything you wanted and expected. 
> 
> Next installment won't be for a bit. I want to develop a few other stories I have brewing. See where they go. Hopefully post them.
> 
> Anywho, I love this series, and it's going to get darker, but it will have its light moments. Hope you've enjoyed it so far.


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